On Sale Today

The candy-apple red Bentley slid down the ramp, cruising into the bowels of the underground parking garage. Overhead fluorescent lights reflected off its tinted windows as the car stopped by an elevator. The driver – a Nordic man with piercing blue eyes that were well trained to see nothing – exited the driver’s door and rang for the lift, then opened the Bentley’s trunk. He removed a stylish black leather briefcase, then opened the passenger door. Another man stepped out of the car, and the chauffer offered him the briefcase. “Mistress Evanoff is awaiting you on the forty-eighth floor, Sir,” he said in a soft, respectful voice, heavy with Germanic accent.

“Thank you, Sir. I am glad in Her service,” the blond man answered. He then produced a shiny silver key on a slender chain and handed it to his passenger. “Your admittance, Sir. Would you like me to show you…”

“No, that won’t be necessary, Karl.” He took the key and walked towards the open elevator. As the doors closed behind him, he slid the key into a small keyhole beside the button marked “PH.” As he turned it, the button lit, and a gruff male voice came from the small speaker grid above it.

“The penthouse is a restricted private residence,” said the voice.

“Jaeger? It’s Gerard. Tell your Mistress that I’ve arrived.”

The voice immediately took on a different tone, one of subservience and obsequiousness. “Do forgive me, Sir. I didn’t know. I will inform the Mistress right away!” Then the speaker fell silent, and the elevator began its quick ascent.

As the car climbed upwards, the man studied his reflection in the shiny metal button panel. The makeshift mirror distorted his image, making him look weathered and older than his forty-three years. But his eyes still shone out from beneath his bushy brows and his graying Van Dyke was still well trimmed, and his lips curled into a smile as he contemplated what lay ahead tonight.

When the doors opened, he was greeted by two attractive young women; one a brunette with a pageboy haircut, and the other a redhead with long legs. Both wore identical string bikinis, but the brunette also wore a western style pistol belt with a Colt .44 on her hip and the redhead sported a shoulder holster holding a micro-Uzi. When he stepped from the elevator, the brunette spoke first.

“Master Gerard?”

He nodded.

“Welcome, on behalf of Mistress Evanoff. May I carry your bag?” She extended her hand and he waved her off. “Yes, Sir. The Mistress awaits. Please follow us.” Then she turned on her heel and started off down the corridor. He followed her, and the redhead brought up the rear.

As they walked, he commented, “I must remember to commend Daphne on her security force. So much nicer than the male guards she used to have. But I must admit, you two aren’t nearly as intimidating as that monster, Bruno, that she had last time I was here.”

“Bruno was killed six months ago in Vienna, Sir,” the redhead said. “Mistress Evanoff realized then that a larger guard is a larger target. She had us trained soon after. And as for intimidation, well…we’re both 8th degree black belts in Karate. Besides, if a male intruder tried to reach the Mistress, he’d be distracted by our appearance long enough for us to react. That’s why the Kevlar bikinis.” She finished with a gentle chuckle.

“Kara,” snapped the brunette. “That’s enough! Please forgive her, Sir. She is still in sub training. If you wish, I will ask the Mistress to punish her – or perhaps you would prefer to administer the whip yourself?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” the man identified as Gerard answered. “However, I think I’d like to see her privately for some other purposes. She’s very attractive and I’d like to see what she looks like without her uniform.”

“Of course, Sir. If you’ll permit me, I will inform Mistress Evanoff of Kara’s error. I’m sure the Mistress will loan her to you for your use.”

“I’ll take care of it, thank you,” he said, and looked back at the young woman following him. Kara smiled back silently.

At the end of the hall, the trio reached a dark oak door. The raven-haired girl punched out a code on the keypad mounted to the wall and the door unlocked. She opened the door and, bowing slightly, stepped aside to let Gerard enter first.

Inside, the room was an opulent suite. The carpet was wine red and thick and soft as gourmet mousse. French provincial furnishings were arranged stylishly about, and on a padded settee was a beautiful silver-haired woman of about fifty years. She wore a champagne-colored gown, a Dior original, and seated on the floor before her was a heavily muscled man. He was bare-chested, and his large hands were busy as he carefully applied lacquer to the woman’s toenails.

When she saw Gerard she leaped to her feet, approaching him with her right hand extended. A strong Russian accent colored her speech as she bubbled, “Dear Gerard! It’s so delightful to see you again! Come here, dear man, and give me a hug!”

Then she was embracing him, their lips meeting in a kiss that was less than that of a lover but much more than that of a friend.

“Mmmm, you wore my favorite cologne, you naughty boy,” she teased. “Better watch yourself or I may just have to drag you into my bedroom and fuck you sore before you leave.” Her smile was a wicked, wolfish enticement, but her eyes stated that she was only half-way kidding.

He smiled back, his manner confident and happy. “Daphne, dear… you know I can’t compete with your stable of hired dick. But I do sincerely thank you for the offer.” Then he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it gently.

“Oooh, you’re such a shameless flirt, you bastard,” she smiled. Then she turned to the female guards. “All right, he’s here. Condition green.”

They nodded respectfully and left through another door. She snapped her fingers twice, loudly.

“Bernard? Bernard!”

At her summons a late-teen boy came into the room, crawling on all fours. He was wearing a frilly blue dress that would have looked more appropriate on an eight-year old girl.

When he reached Daphne’s feet he lowered his head until it touched the carpet. “How may this filthy worm serve you, beloved and beautiful Mistress?” he asked.

She turned to Gerard. “Will you join me in some champagne, dear boy?”

“Thank you, Daphne, but no. You know it makes me sick. Just some birch beer, please.”

“I thought so. I remember that night in Rio. I had my steward procure some Crass White for you. Still your favorite taste, love?”

He smiled broadly. “Yes, with the exception of your lips,” he teased.

The woman laughed. “Ohhh, ab-so-LUTELY shameless!” she giggled. Then she lifted her foot and pushed the boy over. “You heard him,” she barked, all trace of jovial hostess gone. “Bring him iced birch beer and some champagne for me. And if you spill a single drop on this rug I’ll whip the skin off your back, you worthless little shit!”

“Yes, Mistress, right away,” the boy gasped. Then he spun and scurried back the way he’d come. Beneath his skirt he was nude, and as he left Gerard noted that the lad sported a massive erection between his thighs.

“He’s in training,” Daphne whispered. “Loves to be abused, but I’ve got to break him in. He’ll never be any good to a bitchtress until he learns to control his pecker. I’m training him for a Swedish brothel and, quite frankly, they’re not paying me enough. But we all must do our bit for the cause, yes?”

“I heard what happened in Vienna. Must have been terrifying for you.”

Daphne led him to the settee and he sat beside her. She dismissed the man who’d been painting her nails and he quietly left them alone.

“I never expected it to happen, love. I mean, when you live a life like mine you must expect a certain measure of danger, but…so sudden…and my poor, dear Bruno…they shot him down like a mongrel dog. But he was a good sub. His last act was to throw the key where they couldn’t get to it. By the time they’d given up on the key and started trying to shoot down the door the police were arriving. They took the sonsabitches into custody, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long.”

At this point the boy in the dress came back, walking on his knees, carrying a silver tray with the drinks. Daphne took the glasses and lifted the boy’s skirt. His penis was still half-hard and she frowned.

“There was an officer in the Gendarmerie who worships me. He saw that they were put in a certain cell with a certain fellow. The fellow has a penchant for slitting throats, and somehow a razor-blade shiv found its way into his dinner one night… As you say, I handled it.”

He sipped his birch beer. “And Bruno…you said something about his sub?”

“You’re anxious. That’s good. Enthusiasm is a good sign. You see, she’s a special case.” She tasted her champagne and wrinkled her nose.

“This is warm. Do be a doll and remind me to have the wine steward whipped later?”

Gerard chuckled. “I’ll put in on my list of things to do. I’m also supposed to tell you that Kara, the guard, speaks out of turn. The brunette guard said she needs to be punished for it. I was hoping you’d let me borrow the girl for an evening or two. I have a new pillory I want to break in and she’d look quite fetching in it.”

The older woman smiled knowingly. “She’ll make you very happy. She gives head like she was born to it. I may not have the equipment you do, but she’s made me squirm hard enough that I threw my back out.”

Then she grinned at the memory.

“Daisy is the other guard,” Daphne explained. “She’s a hard-ass, but a damned good shot, with a round-house kick that could bring down a brick wall. I’ll speak to her. But regardless of the situation, Kara is yours as long as you want her. You know I can’t deny you anything, my sweet Gerard. All I ask is that you wait until I’m ready to add a third guard to the staff. Don’t want to be short-handed, you understand.”

“Of course. Very reasonable.”

“Now, as to little Holly. I called you in on this, dearest Gerard, because, as I said, she’s a very special case. Bruno bought her several weeks before his...before he left my employ. He kept her as his property, grooming her for their first sexual encounter, and never touched her once. She’s painfully shy, and has only had two men before. When Bruno… when he died, she was left alone. Of course, I took her in, but I don’t have any need or room for a female sub. I thought to find her a new owner, but when I examined her I discovered she isn’t… well, she’s a bit different from most women.”

“Hold it, Daphne. She’s not a man, is she? You know I don’t swing that way.”

She laughed and patted his thigh. “A man? Oh, heavens no, love! I wouldn’t do that to you. My sweet Bruno was straight too. He was a lot like you, really. That’s one reason I loved him so. No, she’s all woman, I guarantee that.”

“Then what is it? Is she ill? Plain as an old bucket? Unstoppable B.O.?”

“Oh, no, sweets. She’s delightful. Bright, eager to please, very pretty – if you like petite women, anyway – but there’s one small flaw. But perhaps the best thing would be to just show you. Hang on.”

She got to her feet, setting her glass on the end table, and went to a closed door. Slowly she opened it, and gestured. To the door came a beautiful woman in a jade green silk kimono. She had straight, dark brown hair that ended shortly above her beltline. Daphne led her to the settee where Gerard waited.

When they reached his side, Daphne sat down again, and the young woman quickly knelt at his feet. She bowed before him, her eyes on his feet.

“Noble Sir,” she said in a gentle whisper, “Mistress Evanoff has said you might consent to take me as your property. If it please you, I will gladly be your slave, and will do all I can to make you happy.”

Then she sat up, her rump resting on her heels, back straight and hands folded in her lap. But her eyes stayed on his feet.

Gerard slid his fingers under her chin. “Look at me, girl,” he ordered. Obediently she looked upwards and he stared into her clear, blue eyes. “You’re very pretty,” he said. “Tell me your name.”

“My name will be whatever my owner wishes it to be,” she replied. “All that I am is for his pleasure. If he wishes to give me a name, hearing him speak it will sound like the singing of angels to me.”

“Good answer,” he said to Daphne. “Bruno trained her well.”

“She was an apt pupil,” she replied. “He told me that she was the easiest trainee he’d ever known. Do you like her?”

“She’s lovely. But I don’t see the flaw you mentioned.”

The older woman addressed the girl. “Holly, this is Master Gerard, the man I told you about. Show him your secret.”

Holly, still kneeling, looked to the woman. Gerard could see the tremble in her lip and the shade of fear in her eyes as she asked, “Mistress?”

“It’s all right, Holly,” Daphne said. “He’s one of my best friends in the whole world. And if we want him to adopt you then we must be honest with him. Don’t be afraid.” Then she was reaching for the girl’s hand.

Taking Daphne’s hand, Holly stood up. She closed her eyes as though afraid to see Gerard’s reaction, and slowly began to unbelt her kimono. As the green silk opened, a single tear coursed down her cheek and fell, making a dark spot on her robe. Eventually, the robe slipped from her shoulders and fell in a puddle on the floor.

“You see, Noble Sir,” the girl whispered, her voice rough as she tried not to cry, “why I am unwanted? I am ugly.”

Gerard’s gaze swept across the naked girl standing in front of him. From her toes upwards she was exquisite. Her legs were long and well shaped. Her belly was flat, the navel a perfect little dimple. Her hips were pleasantly wide, and her pubic mound was bare and smooth. But her breasts…one was scarred, the flesh slightly rough and uneven. Daphne saw where his eyes rested and she spoke softly to him.

“She had breast cancer five years ago,” she explained. “The doctors cured her – she’s clean – but the treatments left scars behind. It was the cost of saving her life.”

“And why do you say you are ugly, child?” asked Gerard.

“Because I am, Noble Sir,” Holly whispered. More tears flowed down her cheeks. “Please forgive me for making you see my ugliness,” she said, her voice cracking. At her sides, her slender hands curled into fists as she fought the urge to cover herself.

Daphne put her hand on Gerard’s arm. “When it was over, and the wounds had healed, her husband left her. He told her that he couldn’t bear to touch her anymore because she was… because he didn’t find her attractive anymore. She was alone after that, until she met Martine in London. Martine took her in.”

“Mistress Martine taught this lowly one the beauty of subservience,” Holly said. “But she was my friend, and a woman, and this unworthy one could not love her as she wanted to be loved.”

“So she was alone until Martine introduced her to Bruno. Bruno wanted her immediately and bought her the next day. Now, she’s alone again.”

Daphne laid her hand on Gerard’s arm and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know I’d never mislead you, love,” she said, “never have and never will. Holly is a treasure worthy of a great Master. But as you can see, it would take a very special kind of man to appreciate her. I’ve known you for many years and I would feel comfortable placing her in your hands. You would treat her with kindness and strength, discipline leavened with love and respect. I brought her all the way from England specifically to introduce you two. Do you think you would like to take her for your own?”

“Forgive me for speaking, Mistress,” said Holly, her voice barely a whisper as she wiped the tracks of her tears away. Her head was bowed and eyes shut in tense fear. “If this man does not…if he CAN not…find me worthy, I will accept that, and will do whatever I can to be no trouble to you. But if I may be permitted, I will please him with all my might and will.”

“Why don’t I leave you two alone for awhile,” Daphne said. “Let you get to know each other a little. I’ll go give the wine steward that whipping and be back in about half an hour.” Then she kissed Gerard on the cheek. She rose and silently left the room.

For several moments Gerard sat silently sipping his drink and staring at the naked woman before him. She stood, stiff and tense, awaiting his directions. “If you wish to put your robe on, Holly, you have my permission to do so,” said Gerard. She immediately slid the kimono on again, and after the silk belt was securely tied she seemed to relax somewhat. “Now sit beside me, girl,” he ordered. “We need to talk.”

Holly settled at his side, curling her naked legs underneath her on the cushion. She waited patiently for him to speak first. “Do you want me to take you as my slave, Holly?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she replied without hesitation. “If you will have me, that is.”

“Why?”

“Sir?” Her eyes were filled with questions.

“Why do you wish to serve me? Why not some other master? What makes me so special?”

“Truthfully, sir, I only know what Mistress has told me about you. She speaks highly of you, and says that you are a kind and loving master so you would treat me well. She also says that you might see the beauty behind the scars I wear. Beyond that, I have looked into your eyes and I see a mighty spirit in them. I know your touch is gentle, although your fingers are strong. I also think that you are a very handsome man,” and her cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“You may not like serving me. I can be a demanding bastard sometimes. You will also have to get used to dressing in far less than your robe,” Gerard said as he ran a finger slowly around the green silk collar of her kimono. “I usually dress a slave in very brief garb. I have a strong sex drive and don’t want to have to spend a lot of time undressing my slave to enjoy the pleasures of her body.” Now his hand caressed her cheek, and she drew in her breath and closed her eyes. “Besides,” he smiled warmly, “a woman as lovely as you should never be hidden behind yards of cloth. It’s a crime against nature to hide beauty behind a veil.”

“Sir, you flatter me. But this one knows what she looks like. I am unworthy for such praise.”

“Little one,” he said softly, and her face lit up at the term, “you have been misled. I see the scars, but they are unimportant. I see more of you than just that. You are physically lovely, and I see deeper than that, into your soul. I think you would serve me well, and I know that you would make my house more beautiful by your presence.”

“Thank you, Sir. I…I don’t know what to say.” Holly’s eyes were still closed, and so she was unprepared for Gerard’s fingers to caress her breastbone. At the touch a tiny gasp escaped her lips.

“As I said, I’m very sexually demanding,” he said, as matter-of-factly as if he was stating his name. “Tell me, little one, what do you enjoy sexually?” His fingertips were still brushing up and down her sternum.

Her blush deepened, sending flame-red shadows across her cheeks. “In truth, Sir, this one has never been allowed to experiment much. My husband was a very dull lover, and my first man was only interested in his own pleasure. He was very selfish, and I was too young to know better. So I am very inexperienced. But,” and she opened her eyes, looking into his with an almost arrogant honesty, “I really want to learn. If I am lucky, and if you will take me for your slave, you will teach me every facet of sexual pleasure a woman may know. I will do whatever I can to please you, and if you will permit your slave to enjoy her work, I will finally come to know ecstasy in your bed.”